One of the major issues concerning research on Crypto-Jews is the extent of Jewish identity today among their descendants. Much discussion and disagreement is ongoing. This article uses Brazil, the country with probably the largest number of descendants, as an example of the past and current situation
Jewish Returnees in Brazil in 2009-2010
Jonatas DaSilva
University of Wisconsin - Madison
“I believe in one God. And I believe completely in the Law of Moses and Israel.”
“I believe in one God and want to follow all the commandments and laws that God gave to Moses and Israel.”
“My belief in one God caused me to want to be a practicing Jew.”
“Sometimes I felt that something was wrong. I realized that God had never left his people Israel, and later I learned that what Christianity taught was not true. I never liked the wrong things that Christianity taught [about Judaism], since Judaism for five thousand years had worshiped God.”
“Although there are Jewish customs in my family, my closest ancestors (grandparents, mother) did not practice Judaism. In fact, they did not know about their Jewish roots.”
“Some customs and behaviors of my ancestors affirm a strong legacy with Judaism.”
“I plan to return to the culture and knowledge of my ancestors who lost this by persecution. I am returning to Torah.”
“Time was moving on in life and I was also discovering my origins. I knew it was time to return to my original people.”
“I want to return to Judaism as soon as possible because I have already been practicing Judaism, and I want to bring up my children in a Jewish home.”
“I want to return to Judaism with the main purpose being to practice the customs and culture. Doing this will help expedite the coming of the Messiah to try to establish in the world rules and social and religious norms established by Ha Shem.”
The above statements are all from the interviews given in 2009 by a group of fifty-four adults and seven children from northeastern Brazil. The interviewers were all descendants of the Sephardim who had suffered the forced conversions by the Portuguese Inquisition in the 15th Century. Their ancestors most likely migrated to Brazil seeking refuge from the watchful eyes of the Inquisition, perhaps looking for ways to return to their Mosaic faith, as many did in the 17th Century during a short period of Dutch domination. But, as history later points out, as soon as the Inquisition was aware of the intent of those new-Christians, their officers were sent to various parts of Brazil, resulting in a new wave of persecutions, deportations, and autos-da-fe. The aftermath is that some of those conversos decided to leave the country with the Dutch occupation, while others opted to move further inland into isolated areas.
What remains today are pockets of endogamous communities which have been living in those isolated areas for as far back as they can remember. Those individuals today maintain fragmented Jewish practices that were passed on by their ancestors, and a great number of them still profess the belief in one G-d. As the data from the interviews have revealed, many a times there is the knowledge that one’s ancestors were Iberian Jews, and that their religion and traditions have been lost because of ruthless persecutions. It is thus not far fetched to perceive soundness in the claims of those who say that they descend from the forcibly converted Sephardim. Kunin, for example, has clearly documented the validity of such claims in New Mexico. Various were the moments in Brazilian history where a number of uncorrelated attempts by individuals and communities to return to their ancestral faith occurred, and most of those events have been recorded in a wide range of studies.
As for one example, there is the 1973 opening paragraph of the book titled The Secret Jews by Dr. (and rabbi) Joachim Prinz, who wrote about a visitor to a remote Brazilian village who found a “parchment covered with strange symbols” hanging on the wall of the old hut. The author said that the parchment “(…) was hanging among the traditional holy pictures with which a pious Catholic decorates [their] home[s]. The owner of the hut knew nothing about the parchment, except that it had been a cherished family possession for many centuries” (p. 3). Dr. Prinz went on to narrate a parallel observation, telling how in Rio de Janeiro some of the wealthy women usually stop their card games on Fridays so that they may “get home before sunset to spread a white cloth on the table and light the candles.” The doctor added that “Most of these devout Catholic women would be amazed if they were told that they [are] welcoming the Sabbath in accordance with ancient Jewish tradition” (p. 4).
Another example is the 1987 visit of Dr. Anita Novinsky to the sertao (backlands) region of the Serido (Paraiba, about 140 miles northwest of Recife). Novinsky mentioned how she “encountered strange reminiscences of [a] Jewish past” (1987, p. 39), and that it was “interesting to remember that forty of the most traditional families of the state of Rio Grande do Norte voluntarily reconverted to Judaism after having lived as ostensible Christians for nearly three centuries ….they [even] created a Jewish school where the Bible, ancient history, and the Hebrew language are taught” (p. 40).
In addition, in 1992 Rabbi Jacques Cukierkorn, a native of Brazil, wrote about his findings while spending a “considerable period of time” visiting small towns in the state of Rio Grande do Norte, especially in the town of Venhaver. The rabbi found that, despite the devout Christianity that one finds in the community, individuals “continue distinct traditions that can only be Jewish in origin” (p. 103). Moreover, Cukierkorn wrote that the people of Venhaver have many practices that are obviously Jewish in origin, but that they “know essentially nothing about their Jewish past, [for] [t]hey have clung to remnants of Jewish practices for centuries but apparently do not know why they have done so” (p. 107). Rabbi Cukierkorn also expounds on his visit to Natal, where there is a recently formed Marrano community with stories similar to those he heard in Venhaver (p. 108).
Furthermore, one can also look at the 1996 visit of Arthur Benveniste to Caico, about two hundred miles northwest of Recife, and how in 1997 he made reference that until recently Caico was an area “almost isolated from the rest of the world,” and “that the people there were devout Catholics and wanted to remain Catholics,” but that they knew that they are descended from converted Jews, and had “an inner need to know of their Jewish roots.” Benveniste talked about the excitement that the community demonstrated for being visited by a delegation of Jews, and that “they wanted to talk to [the visitors] all night.” Benveniste also reported that the home of the local Catholic priest had a Magen David over the entrance, a menorah inside the building, and pictures of Golda Meir and Theodore Herzl on the walls (p. 27). It was then Benveniste’s conclusion that some of the Jews who left the Recife area in 1654 went to known locations such as Holland, but that “the majority, however, went underground again. Most of them went inland to the area around Rio Grande do Norte, [where] their descendants still live…” (2009, p. 3).
A new chapter was added to the crypto-Jewish saga of north-eastern Brazil in 2009. The experience was the result of two and a half years of meticulous work brought together by the efforts of Miami residents Augusto Ben Tsur and Rabbi Abraham DeLeon Cohen, a Turkish-born Sephardi originally from the Ladino-speaking community of Istanbul, and a graduate from the Orthodox Yeshivot Porat Yosef (Jerusalem) and Larabanim (Turkey). Rabbi Cohen is the head rabbi of the Abarbanel Foundation, an outreach organization that aims to teach and further the knowledge of authentic and traditional Sephardic Judaism to individuals, families, and communities that have strayed away from Judaism. The roots of the project started in 2007 when Ben Tsur was visiting his hometown of Ilheus in Brazil. He had previously (about twenty years ago) been returned to Judaism in Miami, and before his visit to his hometown, he had been part of a group in Miami which discussed how to help other descendants of crypto-Jews who sincerely desired to return to Judaism. As Ben Tsur reports, “My father used to tell me that we were Jewish, but I was not brought up as a Jew, and so I wanted to find out what was going on. Subsequently, in 2006 a group of us met and started a discussion on the issue of the Bene Anusim (Hebrew for children of the forced ones). The next year I went home to Brazil for a visit.” Ben Tsur relates that he was wearing a kippah on his visit, and that this attracted the attention of a local woman. The two of them started talking, and soon after she told him about a group of local people who were openly practicing Judaism. As Ben Tsur continued, “She [later] called me and we had a big meeting with about fifty people, and they were asking me so many questions. This lady Ruvia was the person who helped me with this whole project. Today she has returned, as she is one of the Shavim (Hebrew for returnees).”
After that meeting Ben Tsur met other local people, and he learned that many had family legends of being Jewish, and that they had an interest in returning to Judaism. They did not have any rabbinical guidance, and they had not been formally converted or returned to Judaism, but they knew or felt that their families had been Jewish, and so they were interested in returning. Ben Tsur reported that “They knew that there were things in Christianity that they rejected as false. For example, they had never believed in the trinity, they had never believed in the divinity of Jesus.”
The culmination of the event occurred when, after months of classes, telephone calls, and emails, Rabbi Cohen held a Beth Din to investigate their knowledge of Judaism, which was followed by the return ceremony for the sixty-one returnees. On a side note, it is interesting to remember that the city of Porto Seguro (which Ben Tsur chose as the site for the event) was the site of the first Portuguese settlement in Brazil in the early 1500’s, and a place of refuge and hope for many crypto-Jews from Portugal who were fleeing the Inquisition. Although those original settlers appeared to disappear within the limbo of their seemingly never-ending religious duality, it was there where about 500 years later some of their offspring returned to the midst of the Jewish people.
The demographics of the group which returned in 2009 showed the following data: five men and four women were from Ilheus, Ben Tsur’s home town, but the largest group of returnees consisted of ten men, seventeen women, and seven children, a total of thirty-four people, from Eunapolis, a town of about 100,000 people about twenty miles west of Porto Seguro, and a little over one hundred miles southwest of Ilheus. Five men and five women came from Teixeira de Freitas, a town of about 125,000 people about eighty miles south of Eunapolis, and one hundred miles southwest of Porto Seguro. Two men came from Itabuna, a city of about 200,000 people about twenty miles west of Ilhaus. One man and one woman came from Recife, about six hundred miles north of Porto Seguro, and one man came from Joao Pessoa, fifty miles north of Recife. One man and two women came from Rio de Janeiro, four hundred miles south of Porto Seguro. Of the 61 people, 7 were children, and 54 were adults (Bar Mitzvah age or older). Of the 54 adults, 25 were males and 29 were females. The 61 people covered a wide age range: 7 were 13 or younger, 9 were in their late teens, 18 in their 20s, 7 in their 30s, 8 in their 40s, 6 in their 50s, 4 in their 60s, and 2 their 70s. For all 61 people, the median age was 28. Looking only at those in their 20s or older, the medium age was 35.
The group was overall somewhat young. There were several families, and spouses were frequently cousins of some degree, with both parents knowing about a Jewish heritage. Ben Tsur reported that before he would accept married returnees, both partners had to be willing to go through the process because of the importance of the family. It was also very important that the wife and mother return because of the important role she plays in the home. Ben Tsur noted that the decision to return to Judaism had “to come from the heart, and not be forced on either partner.” He noted, however, that adult siblings of returnees usually were not returning, a situation found among most returnees, as shown in numerous stories of returnees (see, e.g., articles in HaLapid). Most of the returnees were mainly of Portuguese ancestry. About five percent had professional degrees, and about seventy percent of them had jobs in carpentry, mechanics, and similar type jobs. Their family sizes ranged from two to five children.
Throughout the return process, customs and traditions of all individuals had to be properly identified, so that evidence of their Sephardic heritage could be attested. Some of the family customs observed included: not sweeping the trash out of the house, which is due to the respect paid to the Mezuzot that used to be attached to the doorposts of the house before the persecutions began. Also important were not eating pork, turning pictures against the wall when someone died, and lighting candles on Friday nights. A main funeral tradition consisted of wrapping a cloth around the body and putting the body in a casket. Unlike other Brazilians, their chickens were killed in a kosher manner, with special knives which had their sharpness tested prior with the cutting of a hair or a nail. There was also a high degree of marrying within the same family group (endogamy), and some individuals knew prayers in Hebrew, although not precisely knowing what they meant.
Prior to their return, the Shavim (returnees) were mainly Catholics, and many had eventually affiliated with the Seventh Day Adventist Church in the last few decades. Those few scholars who constantly try to reject the belief in crypto Judaism frequently try to claim that the seemingly Jewish practices came from Seventh Day Adventists in recent decades, but Kunin, in his New Mexico research, has documented that no necessary relationship exists between the two identities. In fact he has shown that those Seventh Day Adventists who have practices similar to Judaism readily acknowledge that they have no known Jewish ancestry (p. 43). Likewise, many of the Brazilian returnees have some information on their ancestors. One returnee had a photograph of her grandfather wearing a kippah (her grandfather had never said anything about it). And, similar to the quotations at the opening of this article, one elderly woman, when asked why she returned, said “I sensed that I was in the wrong place, that I was in the wrong religion, I knew something was different inside of me. When I found Judaism, it all made sense. I knew that was what I was looking for.” The Brazilian returnees now live normative religious lives, and are avid students of Jewish Law. They have proper rabbinical guidance, access to religious texts, and their children are growing up Jewish
However, to the dismay of many, being fully accepted by the State of Israel and by other mainstream communities is an entirely different matter. As many of the returnees already know, there still are a number of religious laws in the Jewish State that disenfranchise them (and converts for that matter) from the rights given to every other Jew. As noted by many, even the Jewish communities of the Diaspora display a certain hesitation to receive them with open arms. The most optimistic explanation for this hesitation can be attributed to the fact that most Jews are not aware (and thus are puzzled) by the presence of the Anusim in today’s world. Many “born” Jews know very little about Sephardic history and the effects of the Inquisition, and find it difficult to believe that anyone would choose to be Jewish, knowing about negative treatment of Jews. A more worrisome explanation would be that such hesitation is the display of an ethno-social or social class prejudice, with many Ashkenazim forgetting (or per-haps trying to forget) that only a few generations ago their ancestors frequently had serious economic problems even though these problems usually resulted from anti-Semitism and closed opportunities in life. Whichever the case might be, the psychological effects on many Anusim and Shavim are devastating. As for those among the returnees who wish to make Aliyah, their excitement continues to be demoralized by a lack of support from Israel despite Israel’s expressed need for committed Jewish citizens. Nevertheless, despite any barriers, the Shavim live on, showing gratitude and fervor about being part of the Jewish people again. As with many converts to Judaism, these returnees (and/or converts) are usually more fervent in their Jewishness than most “born” Jews.
Altogether, the recent returnees in northeastern Brazil have formed three congregations within their communities, and all three are affiliated with the Abarbanel Foundation, which continues to assist them to live observant lives. They all hold weekly Shabbat services, and they each have small separate buildings for about forty to fifty families where males and females are seated separately. They also observe the laws given in the Shuljan Aruj, and knowledgeably keep the dietary Kashrut laws, and laws of purification. Their eagerness is visible, and the numbers of the potential returnees are increasing rapidly. “I have more than 500 hundred people ready to start their return process,” said Ben Tsur about the many Bene Anusim who are expressing their wish to embrace the ways of their ancestors. Ben Tsur reported that he could not meet the demand for returnees, and that “the reason [he] can’t go any further is because [he] can’t handle it by himself (since the Bene Anusim increasingly seek for his assistance). Augusto Ben Tsur additionally added that “there are so many people interested, (…) but I don’t respond to all of them because I just don’t have enough time.” In May 2010, Rabbi Abraham DeLeon Cohen and Augusto Ben Tsur returned to Brazil to help more returns to Judaism by descendants of secret Jews. This will be discussed in a future article.
To better exemplify the Bene Anusim experience in Brazil, one may look at the 2005 movie “Estrela Oculta do Sertao” (“Star Hidden in the Backlands”), the first movie describing the beliefs and activities of returnees in Brazil made available to the public. The movie is a 120-minutes-long documentary, completed in late 2004 and released in 2005. It is an excellent historical and ideological explanation of the lives of the descendants of secret Jews or New Christians in Brazil, mostly in northeastern Brazil. The first forty-five minutes describe the history of crypto Judaism in Brazil, and the remainder largely dis-cusses the problems facing these descendants today as they attempt to return to Judaism.
Featuring Dr. Luciano Oliveira, a young physician from Paraiba, and including lengthy commentaries and analyses by Dr. Anita No-vinsky and others, the movie includes many personal interviews and stories, as well as scholarly explanations of history and Jewish perspectives on converts and returnees. In addition to Dr. Oliveira and Dr. Novinsky, the movie included commentary and/or analyses by Dr. Nathan Wachtel, an anthropologist from the College of France, Paulo Valadares, co-author of the Dictionary of Sephardic Names, Mon-senhor Antenor Araujo, the “Jewish Priest” or “The Disaspora Jew” (for forty-four years) of Caico in Rio Grande do Norte, Odmar Braga, poet, of Recife, Joao and Marlene Medeiros of Natal, Manoel Moura, poet and former syndicalist, Marcos Filgueira, genealogist, and many other individuals who gave their personal stories.
The customs discussed in the movie, often with contemporary descendants who do not know the reason for the customs, were representative of those found in other studies of crypto Jewish ancestors who waited for the first star to come out (indicating the beginning of the Jewish Sabbath), kosher slaughtering of chickens in order to minimize suffering of the animal, draining the blood into the ground because it represents life and should not be eaten, lighting of candles to welcome the Jewish Sabbath, praying and singing in a language (Hebrew) unknown to the contemporary descendants (and sometimes unknown to those ancestors doing the singing), elaborate rules for death including burials in white linen shrouds and burying in “clean soil” without a casket, putting stones on tombstones in memory of the deceased (a Jewish, but not Catholic, custom), not sweeping dust out of the front door because of respect for the Mezuzah (which used to be) on the front door, and many others.
Historian Novinsky stated that these and other customs were obviously of Jewish origin, remnants of the customs practiced by the secret societies of the Colonial period. But, today some of the descendants do not know the original meanings because of the misleading explanations that developed over time to protect those practicing Jewish rituals from the Inquisition. Not sweeping past the mezuzah, for example, is explained as “avoiding bad luck” or “just a superstition of our ancestors.” Other descendants still knew the orig-inal reasons, but gave explanations that were “comfortable and believable” but left an aura of family secrecy or mystery.
Anthropologist Wachtel explained that these families lived “in exile from the outside” until the 1980s when they moved to cities, and found out that the customs they assumed to be Catholic were actually Jewish. He stated that the reactions were very strong, triggering “a quest for one’s roots.” Novinsky explained that some families “conscientiously decided to return” after learning of their Jewish ancestry, while others, as “good” Catholics, continue to strictly follow Jewish customs without knowing why or even recognizing that they are the customs of their Jewish ancestors. Returnees also recount many customs. Joao Medeiros, for example, stated that “sometimes we analyze each other to find out who is a Marrano.” He also notes that all the men in his extended family were circumcised, even when they did not know the reason for this unusual (considering the time and place) practice.
The last hour and fifteen minutes of the movie showed the unsuccessful effort of Dr. Luciano Oliveira to find an Orthodox rabbi who would accept him as a returnee. The movie is very well done, and this part of the movie can lead to diverse reactions. Those who strictly follow traditional Jewish law can view it simply as proof of their need for a traditional (Orthodox) conversion. Those who objectively study crypto-Judaism as an outsider (or dispassionate insider) can analyze it intellectually, seeing both sides of the scenario in the movie. Some descendants will not understand or agree with the mean-ings, and can view the movie simply as interesting history. But, because of the intensity, some descendants feel the angst and sadness that comes with rejection by the “Jewish establishment.”
Studying secret Jews, as in studying any group which has deliberately tried to be secret in order to avoid persecution and survive for another day with hope for the future, raises unique questions (Lavender, 2007). As we have seen, Brazilian descendants of the secret Jews of Portugal range on a wide continuum from those who no longer are even aware of their Jewish ancestry and are sincere fervent Catholics (some even being anti-Semitic) to those who are aware of their family’s previous Jewish identity, actively identify with Judaism, and are returning to Judaism. While noting the range of possible reactions, this article has analyzed the latter reaction, the return to Judaism. This reaction has had a significant increase in the last few decades, and has received some limited publicity in the academic and general press. Brazil probably has the largest number of potential returnees of any nation in the world, and it is past time for this sociological phenomenon to be brought to the attention of English readers.
References
Ben Tsur, Augusto. 2010. Interviews. March 7 and April 15, by Jonatas DaSilva and Dr. Abraham D. Lavender. Benveniste, Arthur. 2009. “The Crypto Jews of Brazil.” HaLapid, Vol-ume XVI, Issue 4, Fall, pp. 23-27. Originally published in Western States Jewish History, April 1997, Volume XXIX, No. 3. Cukierkorn, Jacques, and Robert H. Lande. 1998. “Searching for Bra-zilian Marranos: A Remnant Returns” in Jews in Places You Never Thought Of, edited by Karem Primack. Jersey City: Ktav Publishing House. Eiger, Elaine, and Luize Valente. 2005. Estrela Oculta do Sertao (The Star Hidden in the Backlands). Documentary film. São Paulo: Fototema. HaLapid. Ouarterly publication of the Society for Crypto Judaic Stud-ies. See www.cryptojews.org. About forty personal stories from HaLapid are on the website, managed by Arthur Benveniste. See “Personal Stories.” Hordes, Stanley M. 2005. To the End of the Earth: A History of the Crypto-Jews of New Mexico. New York: Columbia University Press. Kunin, Seth D. 2000. Juggling Identities: Identity and Authenticity Among the Crypto-Jews. New York: Columbia University Press. Lavender, Abraham D. 2007. “Considerations in Sociology: Problems in Studying Hidden People.” HaLapid, Volume 14, Issue 3, Summer, pages 2, 8, 9, 11. Menda, Nelson. 2010. “O Redescobrimento do Brasil.” Shalom (Rio de Janeiro), Fevereiro. Novinsky, Anita. 1987. “Jewish Roots of Brazil.” Pp. 33-44 in The Jewish Presence in Latin America. Judith Laikin Elkin and Gilbert W. Merkx, editors. Boston: Allen & Unwin. Prinz, Joachim. 1973. The Secret Jews. New York: Random House.